My mother is blessed with smooth skin,
thanks to good genes
and Oil of Olay.
Despite hours in tobacco fields
or laying out on a towel,
the scent of Johnson’s baby oil
lingering in the air,
a pitcher of sun tea brewing nearby,
she has always tanned gently,
like a soft caramel.
Growing up,
I longed to spend hot days in the pool
with never a thought of sunscreen,
looking for shade a pointless endeavor.
Instead, I was blessed with red hair,
fair cheeks dotted with freckles,
and summers full of sunburns.
I wrote this poem as part of a writing workshop exercise that involved studying a selfie and reflecting on something specific from the photo. I chose my skin and freckles, which then led me to think about my mother’s skin, which then led to this poem.
Side Note: We have learned a lot about skin cancer since I was a kid, and I shudder to think of the times I spent chasing that elusive tan, whether it was through laying out slathered in baby oil or climbing into a coffin-like tanning bed.
As an adult, I grew to accept my pale complexion and have worn sunscreen daily for years.
I still swear by the benefits of good old fashioned Oil of Olay moisturizer.
Amy Bellamy, Author 